Page 66 of Texas Honor

“I did,” she confessed.

“Poor man.”

“He had enough women to console him, before and after,” she returned, her voice empty and dull.

His chin lifted as he looked down at her. “Are you that cold in bed?” he asked, half angry and half frustrated because he’d wanted her and he’d thought she’d wanted him back.

She stared at him unblinkingly, without speaking, until he had the grace to turn away, as if his own question had shocked him.

“Where is your daughter?”

She moved away from the tree slowly, careful to keep some distance between them. He lit another cigarette and leaned back against the tree she’d just vacated to study her curiously.

“She’s in boarding school in San Antonio,” she said. “Janet said that I could bring her here...”

“Hell!” he ground out.

“You don’t need to worry about more people cluttering up your ranch,” she said with what little pride she had left. “I’ll be leaving as soon as the next bus is out, and Becky won’t be coming up here, I promise.” She shuddered as she looked at him, feeling the force of his masculinity even at a distance. She could still taste him on her mouth. “If there’s no bus today, I’ll hitchhike.”

His pale eyes narrowed. “Afraid of me?” he taunted.

“Yes.” And it was no lie.

He took a draw from the cigarette. “And what will you tell my mother about your abrupt departure?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“She’ll be upset,” he returned. “I’ve got enough trouble without having her in hysterics.”

“I don’t want—”

“How old is the girl?” he asked curiously.

“She’s just six.”

“What in hell is she doing in a boarding school, then?” he demanded. “What kind of mother are you?”

Tears threatened. “I have to work,” she whispered. “I was afraid to leave her at home after school and on Saturdays, afraid Dennis might try to kidnap her. He threatened that. At the school, she’s protected. He’d need a court order.”

He sighed heavily. “What a hell of a life for a child that age.”

He ought to know, she thought suddenly, and almost said it. But she had enough on her plate without deliberately antagonizing him.

“When does she get out of school?” he persisted.

“Next week. Next Friday.”

He studied his cigarette for a long moment, then those cold eyes touched Maggie’s face. “All right. Bring her here. But the two of you keep the hell out of my way, is that clear?”

“I don’t want to stay here...”

“You’ll stay,” he returned shortly. “It’s too late now. I won’t have Mother upset. Besides,” he added, “at least you won’t be running after me like her other ‘guests.’”

“That’s a fair statement.”

He looked down his crooked nose at her, his hard lips smiling quietly. “Did I bruise you, honey?” he said in a tone that curled her toes. “I wanted to do that when you were sixteen. And you might as well not look so shocked. You wanted me to do it when you were sixteen.”

She lowered her eyes. It was the truth. He’d been her very dream of perfection.